Idol Lives (Idol Romance #3)

01

Jason braced himself against his father’s marble-topped mahogany desk, his fingers tightening around its edge. Swirling dust motes, caught in a piercing afternoon sunbeam, mocked his stagnant grief. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d gone to his father’s office beyond looking for a quiet place to escape the lavish funeral reception in the main garden. He’d never even been alone in that room before. It had been his father’s sanctuary, off-limits until Jason had reached adulthood. But his father was dead, a hollow echo in the stuffy, too-still air. And it was Jason’s office now.

Beside him, his father’s leather chair loomed, cold and unyielding. The lingering scent of leather polish tickled his sinuses. The desktop remained a portrait of the man–orderly, meticulous, and severe. His father’s gold-plated fountain pen rested in its stand, a defiant reminder of the man who wielded it. It was Jason’s chair now. His desk. His pen. But none of it felt like his.

The last time he’d been in that office, Jason had angrily scolded his parents for their meddling, declaring in no uncertain terms that he never wanted to see them again. A cold jab of guilt pierced his familiar rage. He’d never expected his threat to be so quickly and irreversibly fulfilled by their accidental death. Seeing their perfectly made-up corpses didn’t count. Those were just a cruel, sterile parody of his living parents.

But Jason remembered the first time he’d set foot inside that office the most. Freshly eighteen and fresh off starring in a pair of the hottest teen comedies to recently hit the big screen, he’d gone from being an unknown to becoming a hot commodity, fielding dozens of offers from the major studios who spotted a star on the rise. So he held his head high as he approached his father’s desk for the first time, sure that he’d finally managed to impress the man with something he’d accomplished on his own. But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“It’s time to discuss your future,” Gerald Park declared in his business mogul voice, not even offering Jason to sit. “You’ve done well for yourself, yes. But it’s time to put all that foolishness aside and get serious about joining Brightstar.”

All that foolishness. As if Jason hadn’t parlayed his handsome face, effortless charm, and natural gift for acting into a promisingly lucrative career. As if his father had never really taken him or his wishes seriously. Because, of course, he hadn’t. He’d seen acting as a distraction from what Jason should’ve been doing–what he’d wanted Jason to be doing all along. That day–the first time he’d visited that office–had been his last living in that house. But it had hardly been the first time he’d wished he never had to deal with his parents again.

Jason’s frustrated growl broke the silence as he recalled Naomi pulling him aside at Tae Hyun’s sold-out Seoul concert to give him the news. His initial shock had quickly shifted to a familiar, almost comforting anger. His parents dying just as Tae Hyun’s tour kicked off felt like their best and last fuck you . He tightened his grip on the desk, pushing back on his lingering anger, pushing back on his lingering anger. His first instinct had been to skip the funeral because to hell with them. Why should he honor his parents when they’d never honored him? But cooler heads prevailed–mostly Naomi and Tae Hyun–and he’d soon found himself on a chartered flight back to Los Angeles. Back home.

At least Jason didn’t have to plan the funeral. Like everything else, Gerald Park had micromanaged his own send-off, requiring nothing from Jason but his presence. Even that was mostly a formality. Amidst the wealthy throngs and their long-winded, self-serving speeches about his father’s grand legacy, nobody seemed to notice when Jason spoke–not even the press. That was fine. He didn’t write the damn speech anyway. But everyone–from the governor and other politicians to the swarm of corporate vultures masquerading as old friends–definitely wanted to shake his hand. Jason was the sole heir to his father’s vast fortune and holdings. That made him important. If only he could bring himself to give a shit.

Noticeably absent from the funeral was good old Ji Hoon, his uncle by marriage to his mother’s sister. That was hardly surprising considering everything that went down in Seoul. Jason couldn’t guess what his mother’s reaction to her sister missing the funeral would’ve been beyond parroting his father’s thoughtless, cold-hearted opinion. He’d always suspected a stronger, more independent woman–maybe someone like Yoo Mi–lurked beneath his mother’s tacit subservience. He’d never known whether all that was genuinely who she was or just a survival tactic she’d adopted in her marriage. She’d only ever shown him anything beyond it in explosive bursts of anger whenever she scolded him for disobeying his father. Now, his chance to find out was lost forever.

“There you are.”

Jason’s eyes snapped to the doorway where Tae Hyun stood. A mental warning sounded. The office was his father’s domain. It was forbidden territory. Jason wasn’t even supposed to be there. But that was only the hollow, ghostly echo of his father’s disapproval. “Hey.”

Tae Hyun entered, a shadow of concern mellowing his usual sunny smile to something subdued but edged with understanding more than pity. Jason had been unconsciously cataloging all the smiles he’d gotten from concerned well-wishers that day. Tae Hyun’s wistful smile, at least, wasn’t a lie. “Everyone was wondering where you’d gone.”

Jason relaxed his shoulders, chuckling as Tae Hyun rounded the corner of his father’s desk. “I seriously doubt that. I doubt anyone even noticed I wasn’t there.”

“Well, I noticed.” Tae Hyun’s hands gently settled on Jason’s shoulders, their warmth seeping through the tension and his hand-tailored Cuvier jacket. “And I wondered. How are you holding up?”

A tiny part of Jason wanted to shrug off Tae Hyun’s grasp. He’d bottled up a bar brawl’s worth of emotions, and the slightest crack in his defenses threatened to set them free. But that was the old Jason still whispering to him, impulsive and reckless. Hell, the old Jason probably would’ve already started a fight and been thrown out of his own reception. Instead, he relaxed into Tae Hyun’s arms with a weary sigh. “I don’t fucking know. Fine, I guess. I just needed to not be at the reception anymore.”

Tae Hyun deposited a trio of soft kisses on Jason’s neck, sending a wave of unexpected warmth slithering down his spine. “I don’t blame you. There has to be at least five hundred people here. Not counting the caterers. I’ve been to smaller album launch parties.”

Jason bitterly chuckled. “My father was–well, not exactly liked.” He snorted, harsh and humorless. “Okay, he definitely wasn’t liked. But he was important, so most of the other important people are here, too.”

“Important?”

Jason nodded, ignoring the sudden resurgence of his resentment at how his father’s world had so thoroughly intruded on his. “Politicians, diplomats, business and industry execs–those sorts of people. Hell, there’s more money here than a lot of small countries. And a small army of security people, too. I’m sure you’ve noticed them.”

Tae Hyun laughed, his warm breath teasing away some of the tension in Jason’s neck. “The Songs have done a good job keeping them away from me.”

Jason quietly purred as Tae Hyun gently stroked his hair, each touch lifting him a little more out of his shitty mood. “Are you going back?”

“To the reception? No, not without you. If you’re here, I’m here.”

Jason turned to face Tae Hyun. His warm, earnest smile pierced the office’s haunted gloom and Jason’s confused anguish. Without Tae Hyun–no. Jason shuddered. He could easily imagine the wreckage he would’ve left at the funeral without Tae Hyun by his side. The drunken, bitter mess he would have been, embarrassing himself, his family, and his father’s memory.

Jason softly caressed the curve of Tae Hyun’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Tae Hyun’s eyes twinkled, his smile brightening. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He leaned in close, his lips barely brushing Jason’s. “And I’m glad to finally get you alone again.”

Jason reached back to grip the desk again, holding himself in place to keep from attacking Tae Hyun with a barrage of kisses. No matter how tempting that seemed, they were in the last place on Earth he wanted to be playful. But there was no way to keep from deeply staring into Tae Hyun’s warm, soft brown eyes. He’d lost himself in those eyes more than once, and one more time wouldn’t–

“Knock, knock.”

Jason groaned, begrudgingly turning from Tae Hyun toward the door. Naomi’s smile was familiar–a sad, almost motherly mask of sympathy that had barely shifted since they touched down in LA. The only change she’d made was her suit–still impeccably tailored, but now in somber black. A plum scarf held back her perfectly styled blowout to add at least a pop of color.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Nah.” Jason bitterly chuckled. “You know, just getting away from the festivities so I can fix my face.”

Naomi’s plum-glossed lips twitched, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Yeah. Looks like it.” She sighed as she came in, the plush, ornately patterned rug swallowing the sound of her footsteps as she crossed it. “I know this isn’t a great time, but Bernie just handed me a stack of paperwork for you to sign.” She pulled a thick folder from underneath her arm and placed it on the desk .

Jason’s eyebrows angrily bunched together as he frowned. “My lawyer’s here?”

Naomi scoffed. “You shook his hand less than an hour ago, Jason.” Her steel tone betrayed her irritation. And she was never one to mince words. “I know you’re in mourning and all, but that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole.”

Jason choked back a frustrated groan. “Seriously? Says the woman making me fucking sign something in the middle of my father’s funeral reception. Can’t you see we’re–”

“It’s fine,” Tae Hyun interrupted, gently squeezing Jason’s shoulder. “I need to find a restroom anyway.” He kissed Jason, passing some warmth between them, a faint hint of champagne lingering on his lips. “I’ll let you two deal with business.”

Jason slowly exhaled as he fought the urge to throw a tantrum. “Alright. The closest bathroom is just up the hall.”

“I’m sure Seong Min already knows where they all are,” Tae Hyun replied with a mischievous grin. “But, maybe you could take me on a tour when you’re done with this. I’ve hardly seen any of this place since we got here.”

Jason mirrored Tae Hyun’s smile, soaking in his loving gaze as armor against the oppressive weight of unexpected responsibility. “Okay, deal.” He watched Tae Hyun walk away, silently wishing he could walk out that door with him. The moment he was gone, Jason’s smile vanished. Turning on a waiting Naomi, all that remained was weary defiance. “Your timing fucking sucks.”

Naomi snorted, unfazed at Jason’s antics. “Stop being such a brat. I said I know this isn’t a great time. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need to sign this stuff.”

A familiar rebelliousness surged as Jason’s back hit the proverbial wall. “And what if I don’t sign it? What happens then?”

“Probably nothing today.” Naomi flipped the folder open, her fingers drumming a business-like rhythm on the stack of papers. “But, eventually, checks won’t get cut, bills won’t get paid, and a lot of people who work for you will lose their jobs.” She reached for the gold pen–

“Don’t. That’s–” His father’s pen. His stomach gurgled from a sudden surge of nausea. No, not anymore. “–a fountain pen. I don’t know how to use it. Do you have a real one?”

“Are you serious?” Naomi’s tone barely hid her exasperation. “Look around you, Jason.” She gestured toward the opulently pristine desk. “Does this place look like it’s brimming with pens?”

“Fine.” Jason groaned as he rolled the leather chair from under the desk and sat. He’d never seen that side of the desk. He’d imagined it held everything from a secret safe full of gold bars to a microwave and minifridge. But no, just drawers. He slid the top right drawer open to reveal an obsessively arranged set of office supplies, including a half-dozen needlessly expensive pens. He grabbed the closest one and slipped off the cap. “What am I signing?”

“Financial agreements. Contract amendments. Transfers of ownership–”

“So, that’s it, right? This is what makes it all mine?”

Naomi’s wistful, motherly smile reappeared as she sat in the chair opposite Jason. “No, honey. It’s already all yours. But this keeps your company running.”

The Brightstar Group. His company. Jason dramatically frowned as the unwanted burden weighed on his shoulders. He’d never asked for any of his inheritance. In fact, he’d specifically told his father he’d give it all up. But Gerald Park had never taken no for an answer. Even from the grave, his reach was long and his grip firm. He loudly huffed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Naomi nodded, pointing a plum-painted nail at the first signature line. “Start here.” Her leather chair squeaked as she leaned back while Jason flipped through the pages before him, not even bothering to skim the text as he looked for the places he needed to initial or sign. Then he paused as a fresh realization dawned on him.

“How much is all this worth?”

“Honestly?” Naomi’s elegant brows drooped as she frowned. “I don’t know. I’d say at least nine figures. More likely ten.”

Jason’s jaw practically hit the desk. That was a lot of fucking zeroes. “You’re fucking with me, right? A fucking billion?”

“Like I said, I don’t know.” Naomi snorted with pained amusement. “I’d ask why you don’t know your own family’s net worth–”

“My father’s.”

Naomi reluctantly accepted Jason’s rebuke. “Alright, yeah. Your father’s. I’d ask why you don’t know, but I know that answer already.”

Jason had no way to wrap his head around that much money. And he could never have known it was that much. His father never talked about that. He wondered if his mother even knew. And it never mattered to him. He knew they were wealthy. His father’s–No. His Bel Air estate was easily worth tens of millions. Maybe more. But, even growing up in a world where he wanted for nothing–at least materially–that was still a shit ton more money than he could imagine.

Jason’s sigh held a grief so heavy it threatened to crush him. “I can’t do this, Naomi.”

“Yes, you–”

“No.” The word was sharp, filled with a desperation beyond mere defiance. “I’m serious. This isn’t me running away from shit like usual. I’m telling you, I can’t fucking run a billion-dollar company. I don’t know the first thing about it.” He slapped the pen on the desk and leaned back in his chair, the smooth motion not even producing the faintest squeak. He was adrift, the water was too deep, and a lifeline seemed further away with each passing second. But an idea sparked in the darkness. “That’s why I need you.”

Naomi slowly nodded, a hint of concern in her narrowed eyes. “Of course. I’m happy to do whatever it takes to help, but–”

“Good.” Jason hoped his grin was enough to hide his desperation. “Then I’m making you the president of Brightstar.”

Naomi’s composure finally cracked. For once, she couldn’t disguise her shock. “President?”

Jason shrugged, falling back on his long-practiced charm as a shield against the overwhelming pressure. “Or, CEO. Whatever. I don’t know the right fucking title. But I want you to run things.”

Naomi shook her head, her composure slowly returning. “Jason, I can’t. I don’t have the experience–”

“And I do?” Jason countered, his voice tight. “At least you’ve got an MBA. All I’ve got is a fucking Best Actor award. That’s not gonna cut it here.”

Naomi’s lips tightened, her denial more determined now. “No, Jason. There has to be someone else. What about Seong Woo?”

“No way.” Jason leaned forward, laying his hands on the desk’s cold marble. He poured every ounce of sincerity he could muster into his gaze. “Seong Woo may be experienced, but he’s already got his own business empire to inherit. And I need more than experience anyway. I need trust. There’s only a handful of people in this world I trust without question. And you’re the thumb.” He paused, watching her process his plea. “It’s gotta be you.”

“Jason–”

“I’ll pay you whatever you want. A million?”

“Jason–”

“Ten million.”

Naomi loudly scoffed, her composure fracturing again. “You can’t just offer me ten million a year like that. What if I take it?”

Jason resisted his triumphant smile, despite knowing that he’d won. “You should, because I’m being serious. It’s my fucking company, right? I can do what I want.”

Naomi’s voice softened, a touch of hope in her hesitation. “You’re really serious.”

“Of course, I’m fucking serious. Talk to Bernie,” Jason suggested, relief wiping away a tiny portion of his stress. “Tell him to draw up a contract, and I’ll sign it.”

Naomi’s piercing gaze lingered long enough that Jason nearly turned away. “I’ll have conditions,” she finally admitted. Jason nodded. “And I’ll want to do things my way.” Jason nodded again. “And–”

“Just assume I’m gonna say yes,” Jason cut in. “You’ve been there for me through the worst of my shit. I owe you.” He slid in a warm, easy chuckle. “And you’re the last person in the world who’d fuck me over, anyway.”

Naomi dramatically rolled her eyes. “For all you know, I’ve been doing that for years already.” She stood to brush the wrinkles from her jacket. “I’ll call Bernie while you sign the rest of that.”

Naomi waited until Jason nodded before softly gliding from the room, leaving him alone with a half-signed stack of contracts and a new burst of regret for being so impulsive. But, no. Regret wasn’t his thing. It was just a byproduct of his complicated emotional state. He already knew he’d made the right call bringing Naomi into Brightstar. She was smart, capable, and tough as hell. Yeah, there were probably two dozen middle-aged white men with Ivy League degrees who would’ve looked better on paper as CEO. President. Whatever. And his father would’ve probably had another stroke at the prospect of a Black woman running his company. But Brightstar was Jason’s company now. Fuck whatever anyone else thought. Especially the late Gerald Park.

Jason had nearly finished signing everything by the time Tae Hyun returned. He waved for Tae Hyun to come in as he made his final signature, triumphantly smiling before he replaced the pen cap. “Perfect timing.”

“You’re done? Good.” Tae Hyun lovingly wrapped his arm around Jason’s shoulder. “How’d it go?”

Jason grabbed Tae Hyun’s hand and gently squeezed. “Alright, I guess. I’m the proud owner of a billion-dollar company now.”

Tae Hyun’s eyebrows floated upward. “Is that a lot?”

Jason almost laughed until he realized it was a serious question. Of course, that didn’t sound like much. A billion won probably wasn’t even a million dollars. “I don’t know the exact exchange rate, but it’s probably worth at least a trillion won. ”

Tae Hyun’s jaw fell open. “For real? Shit.” He chuckled. “I’d say that’s a lot. You’re probably richer than Seong Woo now.”

“I’m probably richer than his whole family now.” Jason squeezed Tae Hyun’s hand again before standing. “But that’s business. And I promised you a tour, right?”

Tae Hyun nodded. “If you still want to. Or, we could head back to the reception.”

“Fuck that.” Jason grinned, genuinely feeling okay for the first time in days. “Those assholes can take care of themselves.”